The Heart is Only So Strong
by MeliLovesYa
Summary: Antonio cheats on Lovino! How will the heartbroken nation cope? Revenge, of course! Starring the cast of Hetalia and my OCs, the Puerto Rican duo, Guam, and the 50 states! Spamano, Prussia/OC, and various
1. Stupid Tono

**A/N** Inspired to write this thing during Practical Entrepreneurship today XD A quick little thing starring my OC Carmen (Half of my Puerto Rican Duo) and various Hetalia characters. It focuses mostly on a Spamano break-up, which makes me sad because those two belong together whether Lovino admits it or not. Oh well. This is weird and I can't decide a genre yet. This is going to be a multi-chaptered fic, but the genre for each chapter will probably be different. They all will lead up to a certain point, though. It's not all randomness.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Hetalia or any countries. Though if I did, I'd be rich and make Hetalia an actual yaoi instead of just fan-service.

**WARNINGS: **Guyxguy stuff and language. Human names and country names used!

**PAIRINGS: **Spamano, mentions Gilbert/OC, and various.

**Chapter 1: Stupid Toño **

Lovino Vargas sighed contentedly as he sprawled out on the plush bed in one of the many guest rooms at Alfred's house. He loves to mooch off of his fellow nations, and America was stupid enough to not even notice the extra curl bounding around his home. It's perfect pickings for Romano.

"Hmn… I'm hungry. I should go eat one of the hamburger-bastard's McDonalds meals and see if he notices…" the southern half of Italy thought maliciously as his tummy started making the rumblies that only hands or McDonalds could satisfy.

Lovino reluctantly rolled off the bed and ambled down the hall to the kitchen stocked with junk food and pretzels.

As the nation began rummaging through the cabinets in search of a Happy Meal, the sound of footsteps pounding down the hall leading to the food storage room ensnared his attention. The door soon burst open, revealing an incredibly flustered brunette.

It was Carmen Jones, Puerto Rico, the hermano menor—little sister—of his lover and one of the occupants of Alfred's household.

The island trudged up to the somewhat stunned Italian and placed a petite hand on his shoulder.

"Lovino! I'm… I'm so sorry. But I have to tell you this! Toño is cheating on you, Lovi!" Carmen wailed thunderously as unshed tears began to well up in her cloudy blue eyes.

"Wh-what are you talking about, stupid?" the tsundere nation stuttered out incredulously, immensely puzzled by the situation presented to him.

Puerto Rico sighed forlornly, "He's been sleeping with Gilbert behind your back… Sometimes with Francis as well… I promised not to tell you, but I think you have a fucking right to know. I know this sounds weird and unexpected but… I broke up with that bastard Gilbert… and it'd be best if you broke up with Toño as well…" After her words of warning sluggishly diminished to nothingness, the salty liquid cascaded down her face, each one following the damp path of its predecessor.

The lonely island spun deftly on her heel and tore down the hall, leaving a bewildered and heartbroken Romano in her wake.

After relocating the troubled girl, huddled under a quilt on her bed, Lovino was forced to face the daunting truth of her words. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo had been sleeping around behind Romano's back for months before that point. The pair had been a couple for over two years… Carmen was distraught because she loved Spain and Lovino as family and her own boyfriend, Gilbert Beilschmidt, had been whoring himself out as well.

It was quite the shock for the poor twosome of now-single nations.

Carmen sobbed quietly into Lovino's chest as the male brunette observed his peaceful little world burn down around him, almost oblivious to the poor female's body-wracking cries.

Romano felt his life slowly drain out of his body and dissolve into the air as he began to weep along with the girl he was embracing.

The recollections of happier times swirled around his hazy mind, each pleading to be regarded with the upmost courtesy.

The desperate slurs mumbled over dampened pillows. The sweet nothings whispered across heated skin. The drunken declarations of love bellowed for the world to hear. The sloppy kisses of adoration shared every moment possible. The humorous susurrations muttered under the breath. The passionate vows of a bond that was never to be never shattered.

They all meant nothing. Not now.

The 'unbreakable' promise that was meant to last for an eternity and beyond, now entirely worthless. Like a piece of paper flapping in the harsh wind. Meaningless. Useless.

Lovino clutched onto the girl crying into his shirt tighter, as if she was a lifeline to sanity.

His memories whipped around his cerebrum as he relived every embrace, touch, caress…

Everything that had come to make up his being.

His entire aura and person being drawn away with every passing moment.

Every second, his wits siphoned off as the reminiscences tear at the weakening connection to his depleting sanity.

Once his mind was about to be lost to the abyss, the female he was desperately clutching on to broke his illusion of madness and returned him to reality.

"L-Lovino…" the island stuttered as she gazed up at the nation with puffed eyes as red as hers. "We shouldn't cry over something so fucking stupid. We don't need those morons!"

Romano nodded after deciding that he might as well _try_ to get beyond his first love. "You're right! That stupid tomato-bastard only ripped out my heart! I can… I can… I can't do it, Carmen!" South Italy lamented despondently, tears threatening to escape the confines of his fused eyelids. His resolve didn't last as nearly long as he wished it to.

The female brunette stood heroically, "Let's go get revenge, Lovi. God knows we both need it." The island extended a sun-kissed hand toward the cry-baby nation. The Italian considered the appendage for a moment, then surrendered and grasped the tanned limb with a pale one of his own.

"Alright, Carmen… Do you think it'll heal my horrendously stupid, broken heart?"

"I hope so, man. You sound like a fucking shoujo character and it's scaring me."

**A/N **Alright~ Awesome~ Okay, some notes:

"_His tummy started making the rumblies that only hands or McDonalds could satisfy."_ **IS** a Llamas with Hats reference, if anyone has seen it.

Yes, Alfred only eats junk food and pretzels. The pretzels are his attempt at eating healthy.

Toño is a nickname that Carmen calls Antonio.

Yes, Lovino is really that heartbroken. It's Antonio, after all.

I called him a cry-baby because he cried. Not because he cries a lot. I just felt like calling him that. :P

XD Yes, I did end the chappie with a joke. I can't leave you guys all depressed.

Okee dokee! See ya next chapter!


	2. The Sweet Taste of McDonalds?

**A/N** Hooray~ Update~ Yeah, so, is it just me, or does my writing style change constantly throughout even just one chapter..? I write bits and pieces on different days… and I'm pretty sure you can tell how much I wrote in a day… because my writing style is so flimsy and inconsistent. Anyhow, on a happier note, I just got 10 different versions of Coin Dozer for the iPad I don't have yet xDDD 3 (Translations for any foreign languages will be posted at the end.)

**DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing :P Actually… I own the three U.S. territory OCs and all 50 of the state OCs whether or not they're mentioned at any point. :3

**WARNINGS:** Guyxguy stuff and language. Human names and country names used!

**PAIRINGS: **Spamano, mentions Gilbert/OC, and various.

**Chapter 2: The Sweet Taste of… McDonalds?**

"We left the bedroom in search of vengeance and all we found was a Happy Meal. This is going to be harder than it sounded…" Carmen Jones whined as she munched on a French fry in a very unladylike way.

Lovino Vargas rolled his amber eyes at the island, "That's your fault, stupid. You were the one who was bitching non-stop about being hungry."

The female just rolled her foggy cerulean eyes and stuffed her mouth with more fries. The southern portion of Italy sighed, taking a bite of the double cheeseburger they had found in the Happy Meal.

"How did you know I was in the kitchen, Carmen? I was just wondering about that…" Romano inquired the island after finishing his burger.

"Funny story, actually. I had no idea where you were. So, I just sort of burst into every room in the house while I screamed your name. I scared the states and territories shitless! I got Colorado so bad he cried! It was great," the devious half of Estado Libre Asociado de Puerto Rico laughed devilishly.

Lovino just face-palmed and remained silent, so he didn't evoke any more stories from Prussia's ex-lover.

Once the pair finished eating, they set out to create a 'revenge-serving team of epicness', as called by Cars. They searched high and low, not stopping until they recruited four tenacious new members. Their new teammates were none other than Arkansas, California, Sealand, and… well… they're still working on the fourth one.

"How come no one wants to help us? This is going to be tons of fun!" Peter Kirkland fumed spitefully as Ludwig Beilschmidt backed away from the small blonde slowly, soon spinning on his heel and sprinting away to cower behind a confused but happy Feliciano.

California—also known as Ryan—deadpanned, "Well, when you tell him that we're going to roast his 'Bruder' over a campfire while we dance around him in a circle, of course he's going to run off. I sure as hell would have if I didn't know you were kidding."

"Who said I was kidding?" the young wanna-be country countered childishly, his pink lips forming a defiant pout.

"Shut up, Peter," Carmen sighed as she rubbed her temples exasperatedly. "When we do that, we'll be chanting. Not dancing."

The man-made island blanched visibly and began to dash around shrieking when what the female island had said registered in his mind. By that point; Lovino was already staring at the girl with unadulterated horror etched onto his face, Ryan was gazing at her with amused condescension, and Arkansas—his human name being Fletch—was rolling on the floor and laughing his redneck brains out. Of course, the cause of the chaos was right beside the southern state and roaring with laughter as well.

The whole scene was attracting many odd looks from various nations, due to the fact that they were in the building where world meetings are held. And of course they were in the main conference hall. They were in the corner, but that didn't mean that they weren't distracting the multitude of countries gathered for the assembly that was in progress. (Half of them don't give two shits about the convention, but that's beside the point.)

What an interesting group have I reeled in here.

"Oh, I l-love you guys!" Puerto Rico managed to splutter out in between fits of body-wracking hysterical guffaws. Fletch merely nodded in energetic concurrence, his lungs too over-worked to even attempt doing anything but the bare basics.

California chuckled at the display, watching as the pair of friends flopped around like fish out of water.

"Well, since Pete bailed, we might as well get to scheming. With you morons, we'll need the head start," Lovino suggested dryly after snapping out of his mini-coma.

Ryan considered this for a moment, "Yeah, Romano's right. Where should we go? I'm thinking a restaurant or something, but it's up to you two idiots."

"How about we all go to Feliciano and Lovino's? They have amazing food," Carmen practically purred from her sprawled position on the carpet of the conference room.

Arthur Kirkland used the pause in the interrupting dialogue to inject his two-cents.

"Yes, do us all a favor and do **GET OUT**!" England snarled from his position at the head of the table as soon as he could get a word in. "Romano, you stay. The rest of you wankers better go find Peter and get the bloody hell out!"

Fletch stuck his reddish tongue out at Arthur, "Hurtful! Ya could'a at least said 'please. Let's go, guys." The southern state then strut out of the room—in a way that I can only describe as 'fabulously'—and stomped down the hall, his two partners-in-crime in tow behind him.

After stepping out into the cool, crisp air that awaited them outside the large building, the trouble-brigade plopped down on the gorgeous marble steps that led up to the dignified structure. The September gusts swept around to silent threesome as the nearby maple trees shivered in the slightly frosty atmosphere. The day itself was picturesque; not that anyone but Mother Nature appreciated its perfect beauty. They are in the 21st Century, after all.

For over fifteen blissful minutes; the three friends remained quiet as they observed their peaceful surroundings, which were soon destroyed with figurative fire at the untimely arrival of Peter 'Fuck-Mothering' Kirkland.

"You guys!" Sealand screeched joyously as he dragged a mysterious and nervous man behind him. "This is my only country friend, Toris!"

Carmen glanced over her shoulder at the young wanna-be and his 'buddy', the weakly smiling brunette. "Hey, Lithuania. How'd you get sucked into this?"

"Peter waited outside the door of the conference hall until it was finished, then tackled me as soon as I had left. Well, he tried to get me, anyway. He tackled Hungary by accident and got a frying pan to the face," came the response, the owner's voice trembling with restrained laughter.

Ryan snorted, "Well, that explains the huge red circle on his face."

"Ya look like ya motor-boated a plate 'a ketchup!" Fletch informed the young blonde, roaring laughter soon stealing the southern state's breath.

Once everything calmed its ass down, the final member of the 'revenge-serving team of epicness' was recruited and the group headed to the wondrous country of Italy for some scheming.

It was a warm afternoon on sunny island of Sicily, where our protagonists currently reside.

Cheerful cries of "Buon pomeriggio!" echo happily around the cities as the friendly natives notice passer-by. Sea breezes swept along alleys and streets to greet every soul on the lovely island. Mediterranean winds whispered woven tales of bravery, love, and wine as they whipped about the citizens and visitors.

The peaceful and pleasant atmosphere only confused all the non-Italian members of the group.

"Lovino, how come you're so depressing and pissy all the time? It's gorgeous here! How can you be anything but content?" Carmen inquired Romano, with a dazed smile sent his way.

The nation just grumbled under his breath, a jumbled ink cloud forming over his head.

Fletch stared at the blob over South Italy's head curiously, "I didn't know dat countries 'ould do dat. Do ya think we states can do 'it?"

"I'd say we can. It'd only make sense. We're not that much different from countries," Ryan stated with a nonchalant shrug. "It's also possible that only tsundere nations can do it. We'll have to ask England if he can do it too."

"Uh, guys? Can go to this restaurant, eat, and plan? I'm hungry and was promised food," Toris spoke up from the rear of the little crowd.

Lovino nodded, glad to be off the subject of his weird bodily conditions. "Yeah, morons. This restaurant is rather famous around here, and has pretty good food."

"To the restaurant!" Peter interjected happily, bolting toward the building with a dismayed Lithuania in tow.

The rest of the team followed dutifully, filing into the homely eatery with dopey grins on their faces.

"Tavolo per sei, per favore," Lovino informed the hostess in fluent Italian, his ink cloud having been dismantled when they entered.

The woman nodded with a grin, "Sì, seguimi, per favore."

The group strolled behind the lady as she led them to their table for six. "Ci siamo. Il vostro cameriera sarà qui a moment." She waved cheerfully and ambled off as the trouble makers took their seats.

As the various members of the team looked over a menu that only Romano can understand, their server made her appearance.

"Salve!" she greeted them joyously. She then introduced herself as Diana and asked them if they needed more time. Since nobody—except Lovi, of course—could understand anything that was happening, the Southern portion of Italy ordered food for everyone himself.

"A wild waitress appeared! What will you do?" Carmen asked Peter playfully, mimicking the Pokédex's voice.

Sealand grinned and turned his hat so it faced the back, "I'm gonna catch her all! I chose you, redneck-a-chu!"

"Redneck, redneck!" Fletch chirped happily as Ryan put a folded napkin that looks like cat ears on the other state's head.

Toris laughed along with the rest of the idiots, actually enjoying his time as part of the 'revenge-serving team of epicness'.

Romano just ignored the shenanigans and made small talk with the elderly couple in the booth next to theirs.

"I'm telling you that I can knock off that fat guy's hat with one shot," Peter 'Fuck-Mothering' Kirkland challenged his friends as he prepared to throw a fork like a throwing knife.

Ryan laughed sarcastically, "I'd like to see you fucking try."

"Then I say this situation calls for a bet! If Peter wins, Ry-Ry loses his pants. If Ryan wins, Pete loses _his_ pants. Awesome?" Puerto Rico suggested deviously, wiggling her eyebrows when she said 'pants'.

Toris chuckled, "This'll be interesting. I say you two do it!"

"Aw, yeah! I wanna see Ryan in 'is under- I mean... Uh… I wanna use what 'appens as blackmail!" Fletch stammered as a dark blush crept across his face. He tried to laugh it off, but it didn't stop the weird looks that ensued. He wasn't teased, no one said anything at all, but he was absolutely horrified. Ryan was blushing a bit too, but not one soul noticed because all attention was on the southern state rather than the western one.

Peter recovered first, of all people, "Anyway… You're on, California!"

"Bring it, pipsqueak!" was the surfing state's immediate and relieved reply.

Sealand took aim, aligning his fork with the large man's bowler hat, and prayed to Britannia Angel that he would get to keep his pants.

The young blonde exhaled dramatically as he cleared his mind of all thoughts that could possibly distract him from his ultimate goal.

He brought up the utensil to rest over his shoulder. Then he let it fly.

The tool soared straight and true, knocking the hat off of the obese man's head and pinning it to the wall.

"**YES**! I win! California, you lose your pants!" Peter cheered loudly after he recovered from the awesomeness of his shot.

Ryan sighed, "Damn."

"**OFF WITH HIS PANTS**!" Puerto Rico cackled happily as Toris pantsed the western state.

Every soul that had their eyes on California froze when they say his underwear. Or, should I say, lack thereof.

**A/N **Bwahahahahahahahahaha! That was fun! I wrote all of that in two days, I'm proud of myself. I mean, the genre changes, like, three times in the chapter… but whatever! An update's an update, I suppose. Oh and "…and prayed to Britannia Angel that he would get to keep his pants" could quite possibly be the weirdest thing I've ever written. It sounds like crack but it's not. It's just the characters being awesome and stupid xD

**TRANSLATIONS:** "Buon pomeriggio" – good afternoon

"Tavolo per sei, per favore" – table for six, please

"Sì, seguimi, per favore" – yes, follow me, please

"Ci siamo. Il vostro cameriera sarà qui a moment" – here we are. Your waitress will be here in a moment

"Salve" – hello


End file.
